Page 11 of My Lumberjack Valentine

Rosalie is quiet for a few moments, like she’s debating what to tell me. Her eyes darken, a shadow passing across her face, and I set my tumbler down, watching her.

“The candy store wasn’t my dream,” she says eventually. “It was my mom’s. We opened it together when we moved to Hope Peak.”

A million questions whirl through my mind, but I don’t want to push Rosalie too far. She looks like she’s seconds from breaking down, and I reach out to grab her hand, rubbing my thumb against her soft skin.

“My mom…” Rosalie says, her voice catching. “She passed away in a car accident, just a couple of months after we opened the store.”

“Fuck.” I squeeze her hand, my stomach twisting. “I’m sorry, Rosalie. That’s awful.”

She nods, pressing her lips together. “I’ve had four years to process it, but it’s still hard. That’s why I’m so desperate to save Peak Sweets. It was Mom’s dream, and over time, it became my dream too.” She gives me a watery smile. “It might seem stupid to be so passionate about candy—but it brings so much joy. It’s a bright spot for people. Heck, I know chocolate has gotten me through some really tough times.”

“It’s not stupid at all. You’ve found your passion, and that’s awesome.” I feel a rush of admiration for her as I add, “You’ve done a great job of keeping the place going all by yourself. Can’t have been easy.”

Rosalie chuckles despite the tears in her eyes. “It’s been a learning curve, that’s for sure. But lately I feel like I’ve finally got things figured out. That’s why I’ll do anything to save it. Even…”

“Even fake dating a grumpy lumberjack?” I finish for her.

She grins at me. “Yep. Even that.”

There’s a lull in the conversation as I bring out the strawberry cheesecake, but I can’t help watching Rosalie, thinking over everything she just said. Hearing her story has sparked something inside me—the same protectiveness I felt when I saw her crying the day we met. I want to take care of her, keep her safe, and I’m relieved that she’s here in my cabin where I can look after her. I want her to stay with me for as long as possible.

It’s not a feeling I’m used to.

Usually, I keep people at arm’s length, never inviting anybody into my life except my closest family. Hell, even with them, I still need space. But it’s different with Rosalie. Instead of counting down the minutes until I can be alone again, I’m dreading the moment she leaves. Once Grandpa is convinced, I’ll get my inheritance and pay for Rosalie’s building. Then we’ll go our separate ways. A fake break-up to end our fake relationship for good.

I should be looking forward to getting my life back to normal, but I’m not.

Fuck, I need to get these crazy feelings under control.

All this sentimental crap is stupid. Illogical. It’s not who I am.

“Can I ask you something?” Rosalie says, pulling me back to reality.

“Sure.”

“It’s about something you said before.” She cocks her head at me. “You said you don’t believe in love or happy endings, but you never explained why. I’m still having a hard time understanding it.”

I finish my bite of cheesecake and set down my fork, meeting her gaze. “I’ll tell you, but you’re going to think I’m a miserablegrump. Hell, you probably already do. But the truth is, I’ve seen too many relationships end in heartbreak to believe in love.”

Rosalie frowns. “I thought you said you’d never been in a relationship?”

“I haven’t. But I’ve seen enough of them to get the idea. Believe it or not, I come from a big family. Moved out here to be closer to my grandparents, but there are lots of us Mercers back in Idaho—cousins, siblings, aunts and uncles, you name it. I’ve been to a lot of weddings in my time, let me tell you.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Want to guess how many of them have lasted?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

She contemplates me. “Maybe half?”

“Two marriages. Out of God knows how many. And those two couples aren’t even that happy. Wouldn’t be surprised if there were another couple of divorces on the horizon.” I take another sip of whiskey, shaking my head. “It always ends in heartbreak.”

Rosalie is quiet for a few moments, nibbling at her bottom lip. “What about your grandparents? It sounds like they were the real deal.”

“Yeah, they were.” I swallow hard. “Their marriage ended in a different kind of heartbreak when Grandma died. Like I said, it always ends in heartbreak one way or another.”

“I guess,” Rosalie says reluctantly. “But I bet if you asked your grandpa, he’d say the heartbreak was worth it for all the years he got to spend with her.”

I can’t argue with that. My grandparents were crazy about each other their whole lives, and I’m sure Pops wouldn’t change a thing about their marriage.

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